5 Rating

As anyone who has ever eaten Cheetos knows, 90 percent of the appeal is licking the disgusting (and by disgusting, I mean awesome) amount of cheese powder residue that clings to your fingers. Cheesy, salty, delicious, and basically deserving to be packaged and sold as a savory rendition of a Pixy Stix, the Cheeto powder would constitute my entire source of calcium should the world ever see the abolition of pizza. Its deliciousness begs the existential question though: is the quintessence of the Cheeto unique to the cheesiness of the powder, or is it just the presence of a lickable flavor powder in and of itself? In other words: if you take away the cheese, can Cheetos still be great?

A question as mysterious and elusive as ”why is there an Easter bunny?”, the springtime arrival of Cheetos Sweetos as a limited edition Easter-themed snack provides ample empirical evidence to finally put to rest this most vexing of questions.

Shaped like Easter Eggs (or, presumably, drops of cheetah poop) each cinnamon sugar puff is light and airy with a dusty brown complexion one might associate with a well-aged gouda. There the similarities with cheese cease, as the hollow crunch of each puff flees from any notion of the salty Cheeto we’re accustomed to. The powder, too, is not quite as intense in its coverage, and while a fair amount of the advertised cinnamon-sugar transferred to my fingers, I didn’t find myself in need of a good Beethoven slobbering to remove it. I considered this most unfortunate.

Now that I think about it, that’s probably because the taste falls below expectations. For something which has adopted one of the most basic adjectives in flavor for its namesake, Cheetos Sweetos don’t initially taste very sweet at all. If anything, the pieces taste like an over-buttered but under-sugared piece of slightly soggy toast, with loads of cinnamon seasoning but nothing particularly salivating about that seasoning. To put it more bluntly; they’re straight-up bland.

The buttery coating isn’t bad, and really, the amount of actual cinnamon flavor is quite admirable, but each puff plays it too safe in the sweetness department, like some kind of alternative cereal ever cognizant of a dreaded lecture by the health food police. What I was expecting, and what my and I’m sure most sweet snack food eaters would have preferred, was something like Post’s Mini-Cinnamon Churros cereal. Likewise, the corn base and cinnamon flavor leave my taste buds grasping for a point of reference, one which inevitably turns to the sturdier crunch of sweetened corn-based cereals. In this case, the puffed approach hinders old Chester, who would have been better to market these in the traditional, crunchier texture of a regular (crunchy) Cheeto.

To be fair, Cheetos Sweetos aren’t bad. But they’re far from memorable, and I wouldn’t choose them as a snack over the multitude of very good cinnamon-sugar cereals out there. If nothing else, they’ve established a fundamental and universal truth that we Cheetos lovers have long pondered over. Yes, the greatness of the Cheeto resides not just in the fact that you get miles of flavored powder to lick from your fingers, but in the unique and especially savory cheese flavor of the powder, and no amount of buttered and slightly sweet cinnamon coating can ever come close to replicating that deliciousness.

Like an ancient Egyptian hieroglyphic or an Illuminati symbol, there’s an element of both metaphysical mystery and advanced technology suggested by the pyramidal shape of the new Doritos Jacked 3D Jalapeño Pepper Jack chips.

The obvious triple entendre of jacked certainly plays into the intrigue—Doritos wants you to know these chips aren’t just bold in flavor, they’re also studded with Pepper Jack cheese seasoning and completely “jacked up” from any type of Dorito we’ve seen previously.

As if stepping forth from a new dimension and intent on blowing our taste buds to smithereens, these new Doritos are supposed to be beyond anything we’ve been able to comprehend at this point.

Truth be told these aren’t just a clever rehashing of old Doritos concepts, which is something I’ve noticed Frito-Lay likes to try to sneak in on us every now and again. The chip’s construction really is unique, giving each crunchy corn pyramid an almost unmatched sturdiness in all of snackfooddom.

If you’re anything like me and hate buying an oversized bag of Doritos only to sob uncontrollably in disappointment over roughly one-third of your chips being broken, then you’ll appreciate the almost exclusively intact nature of the pieces.

What you may not appreciate is the taste, which leaves a lot to be desired. The intoxicating aroma and speckled seasoning immediately recalls everyone’s childhood favorite of Cool Ranch. And, yes, Cool Ranch are the *best* of the classic Doritos, but these are no worthy imitator. The seasoning is actually fairly dull.

It lacks the distinct buttermilk tang and lactic sweetness of Cool Ranch, displaying instead a bit of peppery and garlic flavor to compliment a respectable, but decidedly one-note whisper of jalapeño piquancy on the backend. Spicy enough to leave a tickle in your throat, and maybe elicit a cough or two, the taste is annoyingly persistent if only because there’s neither a cooling element associated with it or additional “hot” flavor to show an evolution in heat. For lack of a better adjective, the seasoning lacks that typical Doritos “zestiness” which makes eating an entire family size bag in one sitting such an, unfortunately, all-too-common experience.

Worse yet, the triangular pieces don’t really have much in the cheese flavor department. Jack cheese and its variants, including the jalapeño pepper jack version, should really have a mild and decidedly milky taste, but none of that comes off in the seasoning.

Each piece is saved somewhat by the strong and salty corn aftertaste, which tastes almost exactly like traditional Fritos, but with more crunch. Because I think Fritos are the most underrated of all chips, this is great news for me. But if you’re not a Fritos fan, and don’t get too crazy over the tickling heat of jalapeño, then you’ll likely find the chips a disappointment.

Unless you factor in the sturdiness of the pieces themselves, there’s nothing particularly mysterious or advanced about the rather bland and distinctively non-cheesy taste of the Doritos Jacked 3D Jalapeño Pepper Jack chips. Still, their solid crunch and salty corn base show potential to really capitalize on the Jacked namesake, but only if Doritos can apply their classic flavors to the new 3D triangular pieces.

I know few things about Hawaii. I do know the most famous celebrity is that Hawaiian Punch guy with that crazy hat. I also know that Hawaiian luxury resorts will kindly let you sleep for free when you go through a bad breakup (thanks Sarah Marshall). And I know that King’s Hawaiian bread is the best I’ve stuffed in my mouth since challah with its eggy pleasures.

Intrigued by the small four packs sitting harmlessly by the supermarket deli, they sat there engulfed in the smells of fried chicken and briny olives. The first time I picked them up was a lark but when the slightly sweet, rich taste seduced me, I was forever captive. I rarely leave the supermarket without buying a 4-pack of King’s Hawaiian rolls or sandwich buns.

I also have a strong penchant for fried fish sandwiches. While most gravitate towards Quarter Pounders or Big Macs, I go for the Filet-O-Fish. Even though it contains a lifeless fried rectangle with a flaky nondescript soylent green kind of protein, I love the Filet-O-Fish.

So imagine my fervor when I discovered the Arby’s King’s Hawaiian Fish Deluxe sandwich? Too many apostrophes aside, I was so excited that I immediately drove to the nearest Arby’s.

The sandwich was almost four and a half inches in diameter and the bun was similar to the King’s Hawaiian sandwich rolls. There was no mistaking that the roll made an impact visually because that slight sheen demanded that I pay fucking attention. I sank my partially brushed teeth into the softly toasted bun and into the crispy and flaky “wild caught Alaskan Pollock.” I can hear you scoffing. I am too. Regardless, if the fish was wild, I was impressed because it was not greasy.

Also, the rolls did not disappoint. They were slightly sweet, soft, and rich. They delivered, but that, surprisingly, contributed to the problem.

The sweet bread combined with the sweeter tartar sauce overwhelmed the sandwich. I couldn’t even taste the pickled chunks in the tartar sauce and it just killed the Alaskan pollock. There was too much tartar sauce on my tomato and lettuce.

The textures were pleasant enough but the slightly sweet bread on top of the sweeter sauce just shoved the fish aside like my Mom does when I try to hug her. Worse, the cheddar cheese was gloppy and lifeless. It wasn’t melted enough and it made no impression on the fish or the prized King’s Hawaiian roll.

I was a bit sad the Arby’s King’s Hawaiian Fish Deluxe didn’t live up to my expectation. Additionally, the $4.25 price tag is a bit too pricey and makes the term “Deluxe” really seem like an overstatement. The sandwich doesn’t balance as well as McDonald’s Filet-O-Fish. In fact, I’ve had government cafeteria fish sandwiches that tasted better. It’s a tolerable sandwich if you ignore that “deluxe” price, but otherwise I don’t think it’s really worth it.

When I think of pink, the first three things that come to my mind are Hello Kitty, pink lemonade, and the backsides of casual Victoria’s Secret clothing.

The fourth thing that comes to mind is Pepsi Pink from Japan. For most people, the fourth thing would probably be flamingos, roses, the My Little Pony Pinkie Pie, the singer Pink, breast cancer awareness, Pink Floyd, pigs, the Powerpuff Girl Blossom, Valentine’s Day, tongues, the Pink Power Ranger, or raw meat.

But for me it’s Pepsi Pink because, when it originally came out in 2011, I didn’t spend the $12 or so at an online Japanese snack store to have a bottle shipped to me, making it one of the few Pepsi flavors from Japan I haven’t tried. I guess you could say it’s my pink whale.

With its color and the fact that Japanese snack companies are known for coming up with weird flavors, you might think Pepsi Pink has an unusual flavor, like roses, pigs, or raw meat. Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you kreatophagists out there, Pepsi Pink is strawberry milk flavored.

It has an sickly sweet strawberry aroma that’s also slightly floral. It’s what I imagine the Care Bear’s Care-a-lot smells like. The strawberry flavor is a hyper-sweet, artificial version of strawberry. They kind of taste like the strawberry bon bons hard candy that are seen only around Halloween.

The back end of each sip is a bit more interesting because that’s where the “milk” flavor kicks in. Its sweetness and flavor makes it taste more like artificial cream than artificial milk. Also, the milkiness reminds me of another Japanese drink I’ve had. It might be Calpis, but I’m not 100 percent sure.

As for its cola flavor, even though the word “cola” is printed in big letters on the bottle, there isn’t any.

Pepsi Pink is okay, but I couldn’t drink the entire bottle in one sitting. I could only take its sweet and artificial flavor in small doses.

I’m glad I finally conquered my pink whale, but, much like most Japanese Pepsi flavors I’ve tried, I don’t have the urge to buy more.

I have to admit it took me a minute to figure out why confetti was considered an Eggo Seasons flavor. I thought maybe there are some places where the snow is multi-colored, and it’s in celebration of winter? Then I wondered if maybe the waffles were hinting at party season?

But I realized that, as much as I like to think it may one day happen, snow will always be white, and party season is a year-round thing. It finally hit me that Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles are in celebration of the New Year. DUH! Gosh, I can be real a tool sometimes.

After Cincinnati Bengals running back Jeremy Hill ran me and my brother to a fantasy football championship and prize money that would make Bill Gates jealous ($400 each), the reasons to celebrate were aplenty. So with that said, screw the New Year, I got these waffles to celebrate fantasy football pride, being better than my friends, and, of course, money.

Unfortunately, the party ends there, as the waffles themselves really weren’t worth celebrating. Now that doesn’t mean they’re bad, it just means they aren’t as flashy as the colorful confetti specks make them out to be, at least in terms of flavor.

Hopeful for the ever awesome Pillsbury Funfetti flavor, my hopes were dashed just a few bites into my first waffle. There is a little bitty, teeny tiny, super duper small hint of Funfetti flavor to the toaster waffles. Like, maybe 9/100ths of the taste is Funfetti. There isn’t any noticeable texture to the confetti. It just seems to be a dye, which could explain the lack of flavor with the confetti.

Disappointed, I tried a few different methods to see if I could find these waffles’ sweet spot. I had one with maple syrup, one with butter, and one with both.

When you add anything to the waffle, that tiny inkling of extra flavor disappears faster than that one person at every New Year’s party who gets too drunk too fast, only to disappear into some random bathroom in the house to throw up, pass out and not be seen again until the next day. Then everybody is like, “Hey, where’s Jeff?” And you all take a quick look around the room before shrugging the thought of Jeff’s presence off and resuming your horribly orchestrated group dance to Edai 600’s “Koopa Bitch.”

The waffles aren’t all bad though. They still have that classic Eggo taste we all love. Well, at least those of us with souls, meaning that dressing them up with syrup, butter, peanut butter, Nutella, whatever your waffle topper of choice is, they will still be tasty. It’s just disappointing the confetti doesn’t really add much.

Reminds me of this time I was out at a bar and the band on stage announced they would be playing a cover of Rush’s “YYZ.” Being a huge fan of the Holy Trinity, excitement stirred in my bones. Unfortunately, it was the single worst rendition of the song I had ever heard. The rhythm guitar was laughable, they skipped over the guitar solo and they didn’t even have a drummer! Being as drunk as I was, I booed throughout most of the song. Then for some reason the lead singer gave me a hat with the Bud Light logo after the set was over. Um… thanks?

The whole situation just didn’t make much sense, much like these Limited Edition Eggo Seasons Confetti Waffles.